Wives of Werewolves Club
by Backroads
Summary: Fleur and Tonks. Two girls of utterly different tastes and personalities. In fact, the only thing they have in common is the nature of their husbands! Can't girls bond over that sort of thing? Now AU.
1. The Bride

This had to be the worst, most pathetic wedding Fleur had ever been to. Weak. That was the word for it. Horribly, terribly weak. And held out doors. Not that Fleur had anything against the outdoors, but one could at least check the weather before arranging everything.

The umbrellas she and Bill had brought her not going to last much longer.

Some people thought the rain romantic. Sometimes she did as well. Other times, no. In fact, just two weeks ago she had wound up chasing Bill around the yard with a raw steak in hopes of luring him away from any neighboring children. No one had been hurt that night, thank goodness. But the full moon had been approaching at the time, and that was never good.

At least she was getting used to it.

She took a deep breath and snuggled against Bill's shoulder. His shirt was soaked. Wonderful. Now her make-up would run. And the rain was getting worse and... oh, for heaven's sake, the man was asleep.

In the row behind Fleur, Minerva McGonagall gave a huge sniff. Fleur looked back in disgust. Minerva was seated between other vague professors of Hogwarts School--not that Fleur had ever bothered to memorize all names. The woman had a huge handkerchief and was bawling as if this wedding were the most beautiful and touching thing she had ever seen.

Fleur's had been so much better. The flowers, the French Cathedral, the dryads singing romantic ballads and playing harps. Ginny and Gabrielle had been darling--even though Fleur saw Ginny tear apart her silk sash in the middle of the reception, no matter how the girl tried to deny it.

Fleur yawned herself. Goodness, but couldn't the British learn the fine art of rambling and sounding lovely at the same time?

Bill let out a loud snore.

"Bill!" she hissed, shoving him.

His eyes fluttered. "Huh?

"You're emberazing me!"

Several people turned to stare at her. It was an odd sensation, two dozen creepy faces staring at her from a shadowy shelter of umbrellas. She smiled back at them. Well, there was no point. Bill still wasn't properly awake.

Maybe she should take a nap with him. But, as horrible as the wedding was with its complete lack of flowers and the rain and all the strange "craftsy woodsy" junk that counted as decorations... why hadn't Molly stepped in? At least Nymphadora's dress was decent. Though the girl could have stood something a bit fancier.

Fleur should have just taken over the wedding. Nymphadora deserved something decent. Just because it was her wedding day.

Finally, Kingsley Shacklebolt said something about kissing the bride.

Here it came. They would embarrass themselves.

Remus grabbed Nymphadora in a dashing swoop. Her veil tumbled to the ground. Where it would get ruined, the silly girl.

Then she allowed herself a smile. It was a wedding, and thus romantic.

Bill yawned again. "Is it over?"

She stabbed her elbow into his side.

"Oh. Sorry." He slipped his arm over her shoulders.

Bill could be good that way. She nestled closer to him.

"You know they bought a cottage near ours."

Fleur almost gasped aloud. Nymphadora Tonks Lupin was not one of her favorite people.


	2. Rats!

"Home!" Nymphadora Tonks Lupin dashed through the door, arms out in a bold declaration of excitement as if the grin etched over her face wasn't enough. "We have a house!"

Her husband Remus followed her in— husband! Wasn't that a wonderful word? He didn't look nearly as thrilled as she was, but at least he was smiling over the top of the trunk he was carrying. Sort of. For some macho manly reason, he had refused to just logically levitate the trunk. "You like it?"

Tonks took a moment to think. It was a tiny, log-fashioned cottage with two bedrooms, a bath, and a kitchen/dining room. Well, she had never been the domestic sort. The outside was pretty, lots of poplars and willows hiding them from the Muggles if those morons ever decided to venture this far from their village. It smelled a tad musty, but she could certainly do something about that. And who cared about the latest or most fashionable architecture? She wasn't a Malfoy and hardly a Black! She threw her head back and laughed. "I absolutely love it!" And, despite the trunk Remus was carrying, she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard.

The trunk fell just as hard on his foot.

"Sorry, dear," she said with a giggle.

"No mind!" His face was red and his teeth were clenched. But in her eyes he looked positively adorable. "Just fractured a few bones, no harm done!"

"Then I'll take this." She leaned down, clenched her fingers around the edge of the trunk, and pushed. Or tried to. "What do you have in here?"

Remus coughed. "Your things."

Oh. Brilliant. "At least I didn't bring a lot with us on the honey moon."

"Thank goodness." Remus, still grimacing, leaned against the tiny, dust-smeared corridor wall. "Some women would have thought the Black Forest deserved more."

"Good thing I'm not some women." She stood up, in pain herself, and took another look at the house. From the unlit hall she could see the unlit kitchen/dining room and a corner. They were going to need a table. And some rugs. And everything. Oddly enough, she was excited. Her own home to decorate.

Great. She was turning into one of those women. "Honey, did we get any sort of... house-hold gifts from the wedding?"

He shrugged.

Of course. A man wouldn't pay attention to those sort of things.

In fact, the only comment he gave was "Why are you calling me honey?"

She smiled back at him. "Well, I figure we're married people now, and it seems like all sort of married people say 'honey' and 'dear' and 'darling' every chance they get."

He nodded, accepting the information.

"They're stupid names, aren't they?" she said with a sigh.

"Oh, yeah. It makes me feel even older than I am."

"For crying out loud, Remus, you're not old!" Tonks marched into the kitchen/dining room, yanked out her wand, and called "Lumos!"

A large rat darted into the corner. She screamed, swore, and leapt back against the wall. The beady yellow eyes continued to glow. "Remus!"

There was a heavy sigh outside. "What?"

She was not going to be one of those women. She was not going to be one of those women. But she heard herself whimpering just the same. "There's a rat in here!"

Another long sigh is what she expected. Instead it was a laugh. "I thought you weren't afraid of stuff like that."

Her fingernails were digging into the ancient wallpaper. "I'm not afraid of snakes, I'm not afraid of spiders, I'm not afraid of bats... but I don't like rats!"

He appeared at the entrance, more amused than he had been earlier. "You're a witch, Tonks. You're an Auror! Kill it yourself."

She shook her head. That rat was probably eating stuff... in her baby kitchen/dining room. "It's not a dark wizard."

The look he sent her was enough to make her almost scream again. "You know, if it were a full moon, I would happily eat that myself."

"Eat it?" Like hopping on a broomstick, the weight of the fear left her body, and she doubled over in near hysterics. "You are disgusting!"

He just shrugged. "Full moon starts in a week and a half. If Mr. Rat stays around that long..."

"No. I want it gone, and I am not coming back into this kitchen until it is!" Still mostly gripping the wall, she slid around the corner and back into the hall, hoping and praying Remus would do something about the rat.

And he better not save it for a full moon. No husband of hers would be darting around the kitchen on all fours chasing a rat.

Full moon. A week and a half. She suddenly felt dizzy as the memory hit full realization.

She was married to a werewolf.

She really needed to practice making that wolfsbane potion stuff.

At that moment there came a rap at the still-open door that shook Tonks back to reality. Oh, great.

Fleur Weasley, of all people, standing in the doorway with a perfectly fake smile and a plate of something that, admittedly, smelt pretty good.

Tonks forced a grin of her own. "Fleur! I... hi! I almost forgot..." Lots of blabbering coming out without what she wanted to say. Bill and Fleur lived next door.

"Welcome to ze neighbor'ood!" Fleur said with the same unbreaking smile. "I wanted to be ze first to greet you! You an' Remus just unpacking?"

Tonks stared outside into the pretty little tree-shadowed yard. Boxes and other crap were everywhere. She nodded.

"Vell, then!" Fleur held out the plate. "I bake for you two! Eclairs!"

"Ooh!" Tonks grabbed the plate despite her better judgement; she had never really liked being around Fleur. It was enough they had invited the couple to the wedding. But, gosh darn it, eclairs were good. "Thanks a bunch!"

Fleur gave a small shrug. "Vell, I did not think you and Remus vould want anything too fancy... eclairs are seemple."

And how was someone supposed to reply to that? Say thanks again? "Well, it's very kind of you and I'm sure they are delicious. Remus and I are just..."

Fleur nodded politely.

If this just weren't supremely awkward. Tonks didn't want to be there. Was she supposed to invite Fleur in? "If you want to see the house... we haven't done anything with it yet..."

Fleur instantly shook her head. "No, thanks. I must be getting back." She pointed down the path to the next house.

Good, good, good! Tonks flashed her best smile. "Thanks again! I guess... we'll be seeing each other more, now that were neighbors!" Why?

Fleur nodded politely. Again. "Yes. Farewell." She turned to leave.

At that exact moment came a half-scream, half-snarl from the kitchen and the squeal of something inhuman.

Fleur almost screamed herself. "What was that?":

Tonks sighed and slapped her hand to her face. "Rat catching."

Fleur couldn't get away fast enough.


	3. Proper Drama

"I don't like her, Bill." Fleur strode into the house and slammed the door, hard, behind her. People were always surprised to see just how hard she could slam a door. It was part of being French. To be a proper French woman, one needed to know how to express emotion in the most lovely way possible, and that included slamming a door.

Bill looked up from his desk, where he had been preparing a report on... well, she actually did not know. "Don't like who?"

He was oblivious. She had no idea he would be so oblivious when she married him. Though he still was cute. Those big grown eyes staring at her with such innocence, his hair just messy enough... he had cut it last month, surprisingly enough. Just out of the blue. She had been attracted to his original ponytail, but now... he did look so much more handsome.

But she couldn't think about how adorable her husband was at the moment. She was angry. "Tonks! She iz over there, catching rats, of all ze silly things she could do! She an' Remus Lupin!"

Bill continued to stare. "Huh?"

Sometimes she just wanted to lash out and kill him. "Bill!" she screamed, stomping her foot so that it echoed throughout the kitchen. Proper dramatics again, very useful. And considering how small this kitchen was, that Bill had to put his stupid desk in it. "Our neighbors!"

"They moved in?"

Her Veela blood was about to come out strong.

Bill laughed, blushed, and put his quill down. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I just didn't know you had gone over to visit them. So... you're telling me that you don't like Mrs. Lupin?"

So strange to think of her with a married name. She folded her arms tightly over her chest and stared at her husband straight in the eye. "She's silly and imma-tor and... and I don't know vat theens they do over there!"

"I don't think that is any of our business. We're pretty strange ourself." He sighed and pushed himself away from the table. "Perhaps I should go over there. I haven't spoken to Remus since the wedding."

"But I vas just over there!"

"Yes, but you didn't invite me! Fleur, you get angry for no reason sometimes."

He was right, but that awareness only made her more furious. "You are ze one that proposed"

"After you told me to propose."

He was right again. Idiot. She stomped over to the stove and pulled a pan down from the hangings. "I am going to cook your fish black tonight." He hated cooked meat.

"Why?" Bill was almost to the doorway. "That's disgusting."

"Maybe I can train you not to be a werewolf, Bill. Just don't go over there. Zey are catching rats."

He grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek, which she quickly wiped away. "Sounds like fun to me."

She cast a fire charm under the stove, despite the fact that there was nothing in the pan. She didn't care what he did. "Just don't eat the eclaires."

"You made eclairs?"

She smiled, mostly to herself. "They're special."

Bill cursed under his breath. "I thought you were going to stop with those kinds of spells."

"No magic. Just lots of pepper."


	4. Neighbors

Despite common opinion, it was not always Tonks' ingrained strategy to first seek revenge. She had been raised to be better than that, with the turn-the-other-cheek and common decencies and all that crap. Besides, it was plenty hilarious to watch Remus bent over the sink, coughing up pepper-and-creme, at least for the first few minutes, and all that meant was a brief distraction from her fury.

Who the heck was that sophomoric?

She dumped the remained of the eclairs into the trash, not even giving them the opportunity of a vanishing charm from her wand, though she regretted that almost immediately when the picture struck her brain of pepper eclairs falling from nowhere, right onto Fleur's perfect hair.

"Friendly neighborhood prank," she muttered under her breath as she slammed the empty plate onto the table.

Remus quickly grabbed a glass of water and dumped it down his throat. He was still gasping, and she made a mental note to insist he brush his teeth before he again kissed her. "That might have been all it was. If so, that was a pretty darn good one." The merriment in his voice was obvious despite the pepper-induced raspiness.

She stared at his back, trying to convince herself he was right. Nope, not right at all. "You're kidding me, right?"

He shrugged, grinned, and refilled his glass. "Well, it's something I would have done back at school."

"As a teenager, not an adult! And I highly doubt Fleur Weasley has ever pulled a decent prank in her entire pampered lifetime."

Remus spit out his water, along with a last few chunks of pepper. "Maybe. Exactly how much do you know about the girl?"

Tonks sighed. She hated it when he tried to pick her brain with his pure and constant ethics. "I can tell things about people, you know that, and I can tell you that she does not pull pranks. She's too 'nice'."

He just laughed. "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

Maybe. But wasn't that the entire point? "I'm going to return her stupid plate. And no, I'm not going to wash it and return it full of sugar cookies, either." She tucked the plate under her arm and marched outside.

Fleur answered on the first fierce knock. Her eyes widened with horror for only second before her perfect smile flashed back into place. "Nymphadora! How nice to zee you! So soon!"

Tonks did not return the smile. She had never liked Fleur, not in all the times they had spoken. "Knock it off, Fleur. I came to congratulate you on your pathetic little prank you set." So maybe it was a friendly prank, but she didn't care. She had no desire to let Fleur wiggle her way into her friendship circle.

The smile remained, and that annoyed Tonks all the more. "Vell, if you can't appreziate proper French baking, it iz not my fault."

"Pepper," Tonks said blandly. "Pepper. What are you, five?"

The smile slid away into stone. Fleur's hand still gripped the door, fingers twitching and ready to slam it shut at any given moment. "You aren't good enough for my baking."

Tonks suddenly wished she had brought her wand. "You really aren't pleased we moved next door, are you?"

Another quick smile that immediately settled back into stone. "Getting testy, are we?"

At least a dozen words, none of them respectful, plunged into her mind, and Tonks was sure they would all be delicious to say. The nerve of Fleur! The very nerve! Who acted this way? "I'm not the evil welcome wagon."

"I'm not ze new bride who vill keep ze entire neighbor'ood awake!"

Oh. Dirty and low and... rather amusing. Tonks reluctantly gave the girl a few points, then brought out her own smile. "And we fully intend to."

The first glimpses of fury sputtered over Fleur's face. "Wait until your first full moon."

She slammed the door.

* * *

_I do promise I will move past this introductory phase in the next chapter!_


	5. Full Moon

"I made it wrong."

"Sweetheart, you did just fine."

Fleur shook her head wildly, enough to almost unsettle her hair. Almost. Yet another one of the many perks of being a quarter Veela. "No, Bill, I made it wrong. It iz not right, an' I know it!" She picked up the book and brought it right to her face. There was the recipe, written in her own flawless handwriting. She had copied it word for word from the mediwizard, and had then forced him to double-check it. And triple-check it. And quadruple-check it. She would have made the man do it a fifth time if Bill had not grabbed her hand and dragged her away. So she was pretty sure that the recipe was correct. After all, she had made it quite a few times already, always with the desired results. Who would have thought she, Fleur Weasley, would have had a secret flair for potions?

"Fleur, it's fine." Bill stood behind her with that silly impatience of a child. He would probably be quite happy if she messed up the potion, made it less effective. He probably sabotaged it on purpose!

The only problem was that she couldn't get mad at him, not at this time. There was something so _adorable_ about him around the time of the full-moon. Sure, he was shaky and pale, but it made him look like a little puppy she needed, one that needed her care.

Which he mostly certainly did, and he was not going to receive paltry wolfsbane potion! "It iz most certainly not fine!"

He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Okay. Let's just look at all the ingredients together. You can try to remember if you put such-and-such ingredient in, and we shall see where you messed up. Even though you did not mess up."

She had half a mind to hit him with her spoon. If only he weren't so cute. "I vould haf to start over," she muttered. "You cannot just add an something late."

"But you won't have to." He picked up the book and began reading.

Sure enough, she recall each thing going into the cauldron.

The correct amount, however, could be a completely different story, and she made sure to tell him as much.

He smiled back at her, once again with that infinite patience. "Fleur, babe, I have to take this stuff like… now. We will just see how well you did."

She didn't want to.

"You can go lock yourself in the bedroom, if you want. Just in case something goes wrong."

She smiled. She couldn't help but smile. "But you vould never hurt me."

He kissed her on the mouth, then grabbed a glass from the cupboard. "Glad to see you know as much."

"I'm too beautiful to die by ze paws of a werevolf."

"Exactly." He dipped the glass into the cauldron and took a swallow.

He certainly looked disgusted. Maybe the potion was correct.

"Gross. A perfect potion."

Her smile grew, though the frustration was still there. Couldn't he admit for once that she could make a mistake? "Do you want dinner?"

At this time of the month, it was impossible to tell if his next line were a joke. "Is it still living?"

"Do you axzually want to go outside tonight?"

He shrugged. "You never let me go play."

She shook her head. "No. Not with Remus Lupin next door. Never."

Bill honestly looked disappointed.

"I made maca-rooni an' cheese. American style. It izn't too bad." It was a fairly new discovery to her. In fact, she loved the stuff.

"Does it have meat in it?"

Fleur grabbed two plates and took them over to the stove. The covered pan was still there, still warm. Ooh, she could smell it. Divinity on earth. "No, zere iz no meat!"

"But Fleur!"

She took the lid off and began scooping the macaroni-and-cheese onto the plates. He would learn to love this stuff. "No, Bill!"

"Then I won't eat it." He yanked a chair away from the table and sat down. Stubbornly. All he did was sip at his potion.

But the macaroni-and-cheese was so good! She sighed, mid-scoop. "If you eat this, you may go out tonight."

His face lit up.

"If you are careful."

"I'm always careful. I don't think I'm as dangerous as I could be."

Fleur had never been sure about that. Letting him go without the wolfsbane potion would be the only way to see what would really happen. Her husband was something of an anomaly. He was a werewolf, for all intents and purposes. Or at least she could say that he suffered from lycanthropy. But Fenrir Greyback had not been transformed at the time he bit Bill, things were a little different. But not much, when she thought about it.

At the full moon, Bill did transform. Mostly. He almost became a wolf. It had been such a worry, by everyone, and only the first full moon after his attack had proved her fears. He had become almost a wolf. There was no other way to explain it—even to say a creature that was half-man, half-wolf did not fully describe his appearance. He was still Bill, but a Bill-wolf. That was how she liked to think of it. A wild animal, so much like a wolf and yet with such human features.

She had never said it to anyone but Bill, but she kind of liked it. Who was to say it wasn't sexy to be married to a werewolf?

And so he ate—rather devoured, to her delight—the macaroni-and-cheese. The change was coming. Darkness had already set. Once the light appeared…

It wasn't long, not really. She rarely thought about it anymore. It was just a part of being married to Bill Weasley, just like his inability to put the toilet seat down. At least full-moons were interesting.

She let him transform in the yard, while she watched—there were enough trees to protect him from any on-lookers. Sometimes it was hard to watch him, and he had told her time and time again she didn't have to be around. But she was his wife, and she felt that was her duty. Supposedly the potion made the process less painful, but it didn't look that way.

Fleur stood on the porch, a cloak wrapped around her. And there was her husband, silent twisting and turning as his bones changed themselves. Why did she watch? Was it so important she watch?

Then, before she knew it was over. He was down there, a strange creature on the crass, a shadow with Bill's eyes that would move at any moment, slide away like a river.

He had his human mind, of course. But he seemed happier this way. If you had to become a wolf, why not have a bit of fun along the way?

"Have fun, darling!" she called out. "Don't worry any cats!"

Usually she made him stay inside the house. Well, there was nothing to worry about.

Bill ran off. She should go back inside, but it was a nice night. Quiet, with the perfect breeze blowing in from the east. And the moon was gorgeous. Beautiful, huge and bright like a sun in itself. It gave so much light, she could see forever. Past the trees, towards the Lupin home and…

Nymphadora was there. Fleur squinted to be sure. The view of that home was terribly faulty at best but…

She seemed to be crying.

Pity. Her first full moon had been rough as well. But, alas, she had already warned Nymphadora. And just the way that girl was…

Fleur sighed. She was too kind for her own good. She hopped down the porch and ran down the path.

Nymphadora was sitting in her yard, shivering. The girl didn't have the wits to put on a cloak. But the tears on her face were evident.

Well, she didn't have to cry about it. Fleur approached her carefully. "Nymphadora?"

She did not deserve the glare she received as a reply.

"Are you alright?" Fleur asked quietly.

"What do you care?" she asked with a shrug.

"Vell, it iz your first full moon…"

"And your point is?" Nymphadora wiped her eyes furiously. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…"

Horror hit Fleur. "Did you remember to make ze potion?"

Nymphadora nodded.

"Did you make it correctly?"

Another nod. "I didn't ask you to come over here to patronize me."

Good grief. "I'm not doing zat!" The woman was impossible. But manners prevailed. "Do you vant to come have some hot chocolate?"

Nymphadora's smile was suspicious. "All right."

The chocolate was the good stuff, imported all the way from Fleur's hometown. Not that someone as base as Nyphadora could appreciate that. She just sat at the table sulking while Fleur went through all the preparations.

The water had almost boiled when Nymphadora finally spoke. "I had never seen him… transform before."

So that was what had been bothering her. Fleur felt a twinge of sympathy. "You get used to it." Sort of.

"I was totally terrified of this happening. Beyond terrified. I was…" she gave a short laugh. "I actually had some spells prepared. To protect myself, you know. Just in case anything went wrong."

"Zat iz a good idea. Did you use them?"

She shook her head. "No. Everything went fine. He was Remus… just… a wolf."

Fleur nodded and poured the chocolate. "Yes. Though it iz a bit diff-rant with Bill. But not really." She handed Nymphadora her cup. "Then you haf nothing to do vile he sleeps in the room."

"I didn't lock him in a room. He said he wanted to go for a run."

Fleur almost choked. "You what?"

As if on cue came a clash of howls.

Nymphadora swore. "I take it that's Bill."

Fleur slammed her cup onto the table, splashing chocolate everywhere. "I think zey must have planned this together!"


	6. Pitchforks

Any sensible woman would have assumed that Fleur's conspiracy theory was a tad much, but… no, any sensible woman would have assumed the conspiracy theory as the absolute truth. Tonks took another huge swallow of hot chocolate, then slammed the mug down next to Fleur's. "That isn't fair!"

Fleur's fingers dug into the table—apparently the table couldn't be too nice or Fleur would never do such a thing. "This makes me furious! I'm always concerned about ze dangers, and he just goes and does this!"

"And I was so worried!" Tonks instinctively brought her nails to her lip, then realized that she was smiling. "I can't believe this, either! I've been worried for days over this whole werewolf thing, and they're just out there having a grand old time together!"

"They could 'ave asked!" Fleur clearly wasn't happy. At all.

Drama, drama. That just made the situation all the funnier. "Well, can you blame them? I mean, Remus is a werewolf, and Bill sort of is…"

"They've never talked much before!" There were now actual imprints in the wood from her nails!

Too true. "You're right. I mean, when Bill was first bit, didn't Remus talk with him?"

Fleur slowly nodded. "A little. It seemed to 'elp. But then… never again."

Tonks sighed. "Men. It's because they're men. Do you realize that?"

That drew out a nod. "Men are idiots. Fools."

"Amen. We're all neighbors now and they have this divine opportunity to discuss all their random werewolf issues or whatever with each other, and they barely look at each other. And then a full moon hits and it's suddenly party-time."

"And begging us to make them that potion!" Fleur calmed down to reach once more for her mug. "It's evil! And now everyone in ze neighbor'ood will hear them and tomorrow we will hear all about ze 'orrible monsters roaming around…"

Oh, yuck. Tonks hadn't thought of that yet. "I take it this has happened before?"

Fleur rolled her eyes and nodded. "Two months ago I had to make up a story about a hyena!"

Huh? "Fleur, there are no hyenas in Britain."

She shrugged. "People 'round here are not very smart."

Tonks laughed. "Fleur, that was the last thing I expected from your mouth."

"So I'm a mean person. So what? An' now I want to be very mean to my husband!"

Now this was getting interesting. A vicious Fleur Weasley. She had never imagined this side of the woman. "Do you have a plan?"

"I've never used it before." Fleur sighed and put her fingers to her chin. "I want to get a dead animal—or maybe a pretend animal. Then I want to tie it to a really long rope and taunt Bill with it. Like a kitten."

"But he's a werewolf…"

"I have fun imagining it"

Tonks rose from her chair. "Fleur, I vote we get pitchforks."

"Pitchforks?"

"Sure, we can conjure a few up if we don't have any. It's only a simple transfiguration spell."

Fleur stared up at her, and Tonks had a wonderful feeling that they were thinking the exact same thing. "That's so… Mary Shelley!"

Ah, take a French girl to give out literary allusions. "We're only two angry villagers, and we're not chasing a monster."

"Bill is going to hate me." Fleur giggled and jumped to her feet.

"I promise, they won't know who was responsible."

"Spoons!" Fleur grabbed the spoons with which she had stirred the hot chocolate. "These will work fine!"

"Spoon, forks, there is no difference. We might as well use rubber spatulas." Tonks grabbed the spoons with a laugh. "I actually left my wand back at my place, but.."

"I have mine." But Fleur didn't move for a moment. "Are you feeling better?"

"Feeling better?" Tonks echoed. She had almost forgot that fifteen minutes ago she had been an emotional wreck. "I guess I am. I'm ready to scream closed-minded anti-lycanthropic curses into the air."

One transfiguration spell later, and they were running off into the night, wielding pitchforks and shrieking about the evils of werewolves.

Tonks had never expected Fleur to be capable of that.


	7. Running Affairs

The next morning found Fleur still giggling over the werewolf incident. Morning sunlight hit her eyes, awakened her, and sent her into another fit of laughter. The memory of the surprised Bill and Remus scampering off like puppies in the wake of herself and Nymphadora was too much. She had not had that much fun in months. And to think she had pretty much left Bill to do his own thing when the full moon came.

The full moons of this marriage had always been rather lonely. Sure, there was something most incredibly sexy about marriage to a werewolf, but that didn't change the fact that the nights were lonely. All the other women nearby had no idea what it was like. She couldn't pester them.

Goodness, had she enjoyed spending a little time with Nymphadora? Well, why not? There was nothing wrong with a little socializing, and there were so many silly muggles around that another witch, any witch, was a blessing.

Her laugher did not awaken Bill. He just lay next to her, practically dead, his mouth partially open. He must have only recently got in. The lycanthropy was very draining.

She planted a kiss on his cheek. She had seen people's heads turn at the sign of the scars on Bill's face, but she loved them. Scars were sexy, yet very few men could pull them off the way Bill did. She loved every single one of them.

Bill muttered something in his sleep. He would be in bed for at least half the day.

Boredom again.

She pushed away her share of the blankets. A good portion of the quilt her grandmother had given her fell to the ground. Eh, Bill could fix it later. She pulled out her exercise mat for her morning pilates.

Bill just slept on. Nothing new.

Once that portion of her morning was out of the way, she headed to the bathroom for her traditional shower and bubble bath. She brushed the tangles out of her hair as the bathtub filled, pink bubbles already rising into the air (There was no beating magical bubble bath). And this was from France. She didn't miss France as much as she thought she would—she had always believed a girl should be with her husband—but there were just too many things upon which the French had the monopolies. The tangles came loose with the slightest touch of the brush. Veela blood came with such perks. She pulled off her pajamas and underwear, headed toward the tub—and didn't make it.

Fortunately the toilet was where it was. She shoved the seat up and pressed her face over the bowl, gagging in some hope of making the sudden nausea go away.

She sat there for ten minutes, head light. Goodness. Where had that come from? And how attractive was this? A beautiful girl like her, naked and puking into a toilet. How unrefined.

The bath water was not nearly as warm as she wanted by the time she got around to getting into it. But it was hardly cold, and the bubbles were still around. She just had to shut her eyes and relax a little…

Echoes of pounding against the front door sure could reach far. Fleur tried to ignore the sound, but it did not do much good. And with Bill zonked out to everything… she bit back the urge to swear and grabbed a towel and robe.

It was Nymphadora at the door, pink hair pulled back with a sweatband. "Good morning!"

It had been a decent morning until the nausea and the ruined bath. Fleur sent her most withering glare.

But it did not seem to faze Nymphadora. She just grinned. "You're not a morning person, are you? Heck, I'm not surprised. I never pegged you as one."

"I was in ze middle of a bath." Fleur gestured at her sopping hair.

"My bad." Not a hint of apology in her voice. "I actually wanted to know if you wanted to join me on my morning run."

"I already did pilates."

"But you haven't managed to get to the shower portion of the cleansing ritual, so come on!"

That was a surprise. Fleur hadn't expected Nymphadora to participate in bath/shower morning rituals.

Nymphadora continued. "Listen, I don't mean to demand we be utterly chummy just because we had fun last night, but I was starting my run and I just wanted you to come along."

But Fleur did have fun last night. She still kept her frown. "I don't know…" She had never had someone be this friendly to her. French girls didn't act this way.

"Come on. If your husband is anything like mine, Bill won't mind."

The girl was persistent. "Nymphadora, I don't really run…"

"It's Tonks. And you will never learn to run if you don't start now. We'll stop in the Muggle village and get smoothies!"

"Smoothies?"

"Yes. Fruit and wheat germ and who knows what else. They're good and non-fat, if you go to the right place."

It was against her better judgment, but in five minutes Fleur was back at the door in the only clean and decent running outfit she could make out of her closet. Nymphadora was stretching on the lawn.

Fleur didn't know a single thing about running. It had not been required for the Triwizard Tournament back in her school days. But Nymphadora—Tonks—seemed so into it. She took her place on the lawn and tried to imitate some of Nymphadora's odd moves. Bending the leg in places the leg shouldn't be bent… it did not seem proper.

"Have you done lots of running?" she asked.

Nymphadora nodded. "Oh, yeah. I started when I was a teenager. I used to run around Hogwarts grounds. It's great exercise."

"How far can you run?"

She shrugged. "I've never done it professionally or measured myself, but I guess pretty far."

"An' you promise you won't go too fast?"

"Fleur, I will not leave you in the dust. Let's go!" And then she was off, bolting down the dirt road.

Fleur let out a scream of frustration and chased after her. Almost immediately the fatigue hit her legs—it was like running into bricks. "Tonks!" It was such an ugly name to say.

Nymphadora Tonks slowed down. "Oops. Sorry. I didn't know you hadn't run before."

"It iz not proper to run!"

She just laughed. "Fleur, I will make a runner out of you yet. Seriously, I will go slower." She took herself down to a jog. "Pump your arms like this. It helps."

It just made Fleur feel like a fool. "It does help?"

"It helps with balance and gives you a better work out. And it doesn't make you look as dorky."

Well, if she was the runner… "I don't think I can go very far."

For some reason, Tonks cackled at that. "Just a little further. We'll run to that willow down there."

The willow seemed painfully far away. "I can't…"

Exhaustion sprang from nowhere. Fleur gasped as she slid into the ground—getting dirt all over her lovely pants.

Nympha—Tonks slid to a stop. "Whoa! You just ran yourself into the ground. I'm impressed."

"You are impressed?"

"You went a lot further than Remus ever did."

Fleur smiled against her will. "Really?"

"Yes. I plan to make both of you excellent runners. And I think you'll get that first."

Competition. Fleur had always been a sucker for competition. She gasped for air, then climbed up. "Let's keep running."

Fleur was a sweaty mess by the time they got to the village. Fortunately she didn't look any worse than the other Muggle runners. Was she the only one not into running? "Nymphadora—"

"Tonks."

She sucked in more air and nodded. "Tonks. All we have in zis village is a tiny market. The tiniest market you will ever see."

Tonks just shrugged. "Eh, then we can get bottled smoothies. My dad is a huge fan of them."  
They entered the market. It was large enough to only accommodate the most basic of needs. Which was good, because Fleur would never understand Muggle business. She always kept Muggle money, because she did have to come to this market every now and then, but it was still just so… pathetic.

The bottled smoothies were kept in the dairy section—even though most of the drinks had nothing dairy about them.

She was just so thirsty. She selected her drink, ripped off the cap, and chugged. Oh, it was so good! And on sale, too.

Maybe it was the light-headedness from running. Maybe it was because the silly Muggle manager was staring at them—Muggles did not understand fashion. Maybe it was just her.

"Nymphadora Tonks Lupin," she began. "I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?" The natural reply.

"You've created a scandal," Fleur said icily—and with a wink. "To do what you did wit' Monica's husband…"

For a moment it didn't seem Tonks would catch on. But then… "Maybe if you hadn't decided to steal my own husband away from me!"

Fleur faked shock. "That louse of yours came on to me! I had no'thing to do with it!"

"Liar!" Tonks' voice rose a good octave.

"Slut!" Fleur shot back.

"Monica doesn't deserve her husband, anyway! The behavior she puts on, every time the milk man comes around…"

The few occupants of the store were certainly getting a good show for their shopping pleasure.

Fleur marched to the counter and threw down what she hoped was a reasonable amount of Muggle money. "I have half a mind to tell Monica right now! For both of us, sir. Because I have enough class to buy someone a drink!"

The cashier quickly grabbed the money.

"I will reveal what you did at Betty's party!" Tonks screamed.

More faked shock. "You wouldn't dare!"

By the time they managed to get out of the shop, someone named Louise had an illegitimate child.

They didn't dare burst out into hysterical laughter until they were well away from the village.


	8. Fluffiness

_All right, this is a little more risque than my other chapters, but I don't think it's enough to lift the rating. I'm just warning you ahead of time. It's just kind of suggestive._

* * *

Remus was finally awake by the time Tonks entered the house, followed by Fleur. They had been laughing the whole way home, creating the story of Betty and Monica and their husbands. Apparently it was an ancient family scandal that extended through the generations. It was amazing to realize that Fleur could be so creative. But, as Tonks admitted as they had reached their road, the French were known for their experiences in the matter of love and affairs.

Remus looked absolutely terrible. He was bent over the tiny counter, eyes half-closed, a wooden spoon magically spinning in a bowl of what looked like green pancake batter. His hair was mostly gray and he looked as if he could sleep for hours, but at least he was up.

Tonks didn't imagine she looked any better. Though she liked to run, she sweat something terribly in the process, and that was a matter of biology that even an animagus could not fix. She pushed the sweaty hair from her eyes and smiled at her husband.

The smile did not last long.

Fleur burst into near maniacal laughter.

Remus had failed to put on clothes before coming downstairs. Any clothes.

"Remus!" Tonks yanked an apron from the door and threw it at him. He was so out of it he barely noticed. "Fleur, please forgive me!"

But Fleur was nearly on the ground, shaking from laughter. "I'm zorry! I can't help it!"

How humiliating. Her first good twenty-four hours with Fleur and now her idiot werewolf of a husband had to do something humiliating like this. "Fleur, this has never happened before. I swear."

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She was almost choking on the laughs now. "That's is because you are only newlyweds."

"I don't care. It's still embarrassing." Were werewolves always like this the morning after? Completely dense? Or was it just Remus?

"Tell me about it. One time, my mother was visiting from France, an' Bill came downstairs after the full moon…"

"Oh, lord. At least my parents are around. Tonks quickly tied the apron around Remus, who seemed to finally understand that someone else was in the room with them.

Fleur put out the last of her laughs and waved. "I guess I should leave, then. I don't want you to think I waz… admiring your husband."

"Thank-you!"

No, Fleur's laughter was not finished. Tonks heard the door slam, followed by the craziest laughter she had ever heard in her life.

Well, other than this incident, it had not been too terrible a morning. She realized the apron was not going to do much good; he looked absolutely ridiculous. So instead she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck. "Good morning, darling."

"Huh?" The first utterings of the day.

"The full moon is over, Remus. You can put on clothes now."

"Huh?" He blinked, then looked down. "You don't like this?"

"Honey, you're scaring people."

He nodded and yawned. "I thought we weren't going to use those names."

She laughed. "I was just trying to wake you up."

"Mm." He pointed at the batch. "I made breakfast."

"I noticed. What is it supposed to be?"

He stared at it. "I don't know."

She laughed again, stuck a finger into the greenness, and tasted. It wasn't half bad. "I don't care let you continue until you know what you are supposed to be making."

"Tonks, I'm sorry. I'm usually very foggy after a full moon."

"Evidently."

"You said I was scaring people. Who was here?"

"Our neighbor."

He blinked. "Bill?"

"His wife."

That woke him up. "When was she here?"

Oh, this was priceless. What she wouldn't do for a camera for the situation. "She just left."

That really woke him up. "Why didn't you…?"

"You were the one downstairs, mister. It's not my fault you didn't put on clothes. You're a little old for you wife to be lying out your outfits. Like an old married couple."

"Are you saying that Fleur Delacour Weasley saw…"

Tonks grinned. This was too much fun. "Saw little Remus? Yes. Just promise you won't run off with her now that she is madly in love with you and leave me to have an affair with her husband." The market conservation was coming oddly true.

"You two seem to be getting along."

She shrugged. "Yeah, we are, aren't we? Don't you remember last night?"

He made a face. "Pitchforks. How original. That was surprising."

"We had fun, though."

"So it wasn't too horrible, then?" He tried to smile. "You don't mind being married to a werewolf?"

She made sure to put the next kiss on his lips. "I was scared at first, but I'm okay now. I think I can get used to it."

"What do you mean you were scared?"

"You turned into a wolf. Why shouldn't I be afraid of that?"

He kissed her back. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I know. What do you say we do something else for breakfast? Since you're dressed for the occasion and all."

He seemed to like that.


	9. Expectations

Fleur was more than a little surprised at herself. Sure, she had never been a horrible, nasty soul—or had tried not to be, and any actions during her teenage years should be forgotten. So she was a little snobbish. What true Frenchwoman wasn't? But she was also a kind and generous soul with a good heart. Was it so wrong for her to take a scared Nymphadora under her wing? Get her through a hard time? If Nymphadora, or Tonks, happened to be an interesting person, well, there wasn't very much Fleur could do about that.

Besides, it was nice to have another woman to talk to in this place. She loved Bill, but the simple fact was that Bill was a male and therefore an idiot. Bill didn't understand her need for her clothes or to do her hair. Bill couldn't talk for hours about nothing. Why, just the day before she and Tonks had spent four hours stabbing themselves with needles in attempt to cross-stitch (neither of them admitted to coming up with the idea for such a stupid thing) and discussing people at school. They were both done with school, both Hogwarts and Beauobaxtons, but goodness, did school not make a great source of discussion. If Fleur ever asked Bill about his Hogwarts days, he would talk about some stuff he did as Head Boy. He didn't care for the intricacies of all the weird students that never ceased to appear in school or the nature of the girls' bathrooms.

Bill had just left for work, and Fleur was in the middle of tidying up the place. Dust, dust, and more dust. Was this her punishment for her living in the country? Though it was beautiful. Tonks was probably doing the exact same thing. Cleaning. What a pain. All those Magical and Muggle women alike doing so much to encourage fairness between the sexes and women still found themselves drawn to cleaning. Why?

Because, she thought rather smugly, if the women did not do it, it would never get done. Why, Bill would be perfectly happy living with dirty laundry spilled over everything and dust clinging to every available surface like in a haunted house. It was true: men and women were simply different from each other and no silly modern notions would change that.

Besides, the cleaning gave her something to do, something to occupy by her time and her mind. She tossed her feather duster into the closet and pulled out some all-purpose cleaner. Muggle all-purpose cleaner. She had discovered that it worked just as well as the expensive magic stuff as long as potion spills were involved. Plus, it smelled like lemons. Lemons were a delightful smell. She began filling the sink with water and poured a generous amount of cleaner into the streaming water. Instantly bubbles began to appear.

Bubbles. Bubbles were also delightful. Unfortunate that too much use of the cleaner led to a disappearance in the bubbles. And she had no intention of cleaning the entire kitchen before…

Bill had left at 8:00. Ursula Penningport had arrived at 8:15. Ursula Penningport lived down in the Muggle village, where she worked as a midwife and only used the barest drop of magic in her work with the Muggles. Her fellow witches, however, got the full benefit of her skills.

And now it was 8:37. How long did these things take? Fleur plunged a sponge into the soapy, lemony water. Her heart was throwing itself against her ribs. She should have followed her prior thoughts and gone over to Tonks' for the remainder of this. All her thoughts of Tonks this morning and she hadn't even informed her of this. She pulled out the sponge, twisted it, and began to mop at the already clean counter. Oh, yes. She had already wiped that spot down. Silly her.

Then it came, the knock at the kitchen door. "Mrs. Weasley?"

Fleur gave a tiny cry and dropped the sponge to the floor, where it burst bubbles every which way. Oh, well. Mopping was on her list of things to do. "Yes?"

Mrs. Penningport opened the door wide. She was a tall and imposing woman, but with a smile to light up the room. "Congratulations, Mrs. Weasley, you're pregnant."

Fleur gave another cry, much louder, and threw her arms around the midwife.

Now how in the world was she going to tell Bill?


	10. Of Toilets and Babies

Tonks had discovered a new love in her life, one that surpassed her devotion her career as an auror and even threatened that to her husband. It was a strange, passionate love, more a steamy addiction than anything else, but the feeling was true and pure, no matter how bizarre the love.

There was something about cleaning bathrooms.

For years she had always thought it was a neat-freak thing, something her father had steered her away from. Bathrooms didn't need to be freakishly clean. Sanitary, of course, and not gross. But she had always before made fun of the people that crawled around on the floor with toothbrushes, eyes wide, ready, and searching for that tell-tale hint of mildew. And the toilet bowl. Oh, wow. The toilet bowl! Vesper's Fruit Explosion Toilet Bowl Cleaner, magically guaranteed to cover all surfaces and repel all stains for a week. And it smelled nice. It probably wasn't good to be smelling the toilet bowl cleaner, speaking of that. It was self-brushing, as well, but there was something very satisfying about attacking the toilet bowl with a brush. Oh, that lovely scraping sound.

Good lord, she needed to find something else to do on her days off. When she was single, she had a life. On her spare days she would do something exciting—sneak into Muggle dance clubs, stalk the Weird Sisters, cliff dive, all that good wholesome stuff. Then she went and got herself married. Now she found herself cooking food and cleaning all pretty much turning into Molly Weasley.

And to top it all off, she was enjoying it!

Well, maybe she would not be doing this if she and Remus had similar schedules. She would torture him. One time she had taken him to a Muggle rock concert. Remus hated rock concerts. Good times, good times.

But not as good a time as this. She drove the brush into a crevice behind the toilet and cackled with sick joy.

Which was sadly interrupted by a knock at the door. She swore and left the toothbrush where it was. Just when she was about to dominate all things icky… "Coming!" What person in his right mind would bother someone in the midst of cleaning a bathroom?

It was Fleur at the door, a jittery, smiling, and panicking Fleur. Not that Tonks noticed.

"You caught me in the middle of cleaning my bathroom," she said by way of introduction. "I had no idea it was so satisfying, and don't you dare give me any grief in relation to how the French clean their toilets. I even did this Muggle trick where you clean the sink by filling it up with water and bleach and—"

"I need help, you twit!" Fleur suddenly screamed.

Tonks immediately went silent. Well, she had noticed the other woman had looked a bit off. But if something was seriously wrong… "Fleur?"

Fleur took a deep breath of air and seemed to choke on it. "Tonks, I am going to 'ave a baby and I don't know 'ow to tell Bill."

The words didn't quite register in Tonks' mind. "So… you're telling me first?"

Fleur instantly burst into tears. And she was still standing in the doorway. Tonks rolled her eyes and led her inside to a couch. "Aren't you excited?"

"Yes!" Fleur wailed. "I am so happy I can't believe it! I am going to be a mama!"

It was very exciting news. "And you don't know how to tell Bill? Does he not want a baby?"

"When I tell him," Fleur said through her tears. "It needs to be special. Romantic."

"I'm hardly the first person you should come to for that kind of idea." Tonks was thrilled about the baby, but that did not change the fact that this was an awkward situation.

"But you are fun! Creative! 'Ave you no ideas?"

"I'd say make a cute banner and stretch it over your door." Tonks held out her arms in demonstration. "We could make a little stork on it."

The look Fleur gave her nearly killed. "Zat is tacky."

"I didn't tell you to come for me to advice. Though it was very sweet of you."

Fleur sighed and leaned against Tonks' shoulder. "Everyone thinks zat I am suppose to be all romantic just because I am French! I don't know these things!"

Tonks thought some more. "Hide behind the door, and when he gets home, jump out and kiss him!"

That brought the faintest of smiles. "I do like kissing Bill."

"And I'll make you the banner."

"No banners!" Her hands fell in her lap, fingers twisting at one another. "Gah! I do not know what to do! Dinner? Candlelight dinner?"

"Ooh, that does sound romantic." Not that Tonks had ever been much of a sucker for that. "What can we cook?"

Fleur sighed. "I make 'im fancy food every night."

"We could make tacos."

"Not in zis hemisphere." Now Fleur was giggling.

Tacos sounded really good right now.

"But we rarely use candles. Zat would be pretty."

"And you would say it very romantically," Tonks continued. "In a sultry voice. But you already have a sultry voice."

"Thank-you. You don't.  
"And I'm perfectly okay with that."

"Well," said Fleur, standing up. "Thank-you for letting me barge in here. I am now off to figure out something to cook."

She left, and Tonks went off to make a humiliating banner.


	11. Sushi

_So this fic is officially AU. Boo-yah._

* * *

So Tonks' idea of tacos had not been such a horrible idea. No, no taco meat sizzled on the stove, but the influence had been made. Tacos were an international food, and French cuisine was, sadly enough, now ordinary. So Fleur went ahead and sizzled up some sushi with white rice. Delicious rolls of rice and fish and seaweed and everything else she had found in the ethnic department of the supermarket. She had tried sushi once on a vacation as a child and been enchanted by it. It brought to mind images of exotic lands and warm oceans. To drink she prepared a hot green tea. She considered putting up tacky paper lanterns, but fortunately could not bring herself to do so.

But she did find a pale green kimono in the back of her closet. Incredibly sexy.

And, heck, she went with the candles.

She lit them as she placed the plate of sushi on the table next to her great-aunt's silver teapot. She wore the kimono and had tied her hair back with an Oriental-printed ribbon. The sensible part of her brain told her to forget all the hullabaloo and just tell Bill. But both of them were prone to drama and it seemed as good a time as any to let that drama fly free. She placed red chopsticks by each plate then surveyed the effect. The tiny room was dark with the candlelight bouncing off the walls.

Absolutely gorgeous.

And Bill would be home soon.

She giggled and did a little dance for herself. Would it be so horrible to invite Tonks over for a quickie to get her opinion on the room? No, Tonks had no taste. Besides, this was her and Bill's moment. A celebration of their love and their child.

She glanced at the clock. 6:00.

As if on cue, she heard the front door open. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart thumped at her ribs. She was just so excited she could scream!

Then he appeared, looking handsome and scarred-sexy and a bit tired. Well, she would fix that.

"Hi, sweetie," he said with his gaze nowhere on the room. "You wouldn't believe the day I had. Some dumb kids tried to pretend to hold up the bank and the goblins freaked out…" He looked up, mouth dropping slightly open.

Fleur smiled and gestured at his chair.

Bill gave a low whistle. "This looks nice. You look nice."

Of course she did. She felt absolutely aglow. "It zounds like you 'ave 'ad a long day, Bill. Come zit down."

He looked properly amused—and confused. "Shouldn't I hold out your chair?"

Probably. From what she heard pregnancy did havoc on the body. "No, no. You sit first."

With a shrug he sat down. "Is… is there something going on?"

"Maybe." It was all she could do keep herself from kissing him good and hard and somehow mutter the news during the aforementioned's results. Instead she took a pair of chopsticks and set a roll on his plate.

He stared at. "What's this?"

"Dinner. It's special."

He poked at with his finger. "Do I smell fish?"

"It'z sushi. It's very good."

"Sushi?" His face wrinkled in bewilderment. "Isn't that like raw fish?"

Well hadn't she married the intelligent one? Now her smile felt a tad pasted. "You eat everything else raw. Why not fish?"

"Honey, there's a difference."

"It'z mixed with rice. You like rice."

"Only sometimes." He picked up the role with one hand and took a bite. Then made a face.

"Iz it good?" she asked. Pleaded. Demanded.

The face remained for a few moments before he swallowed and changed his expression to surprised positivity. "Yes, actually. It is good."

She took a bite of hers. Not bad for her first sushi attempt. Yummy. "Zere iz nothing wrong with raw meat!"

"Now you have an inkling into what it's like to be a werewolf."

"I feel so much closer to you." Yes, this would be a good night.

He took another bite and set the roll down.

"You are supposed to eat with the chopsticks." She held out hers as an example.

He frowned. "Like… stab the sushi roll with one?"

"It'z an art, you ox." And to think her husband looked so artsy and worldly. Moron. Oh, how she loved him! And how she hoped the baby would not have his brains.

He tried again with the chopsticks. Horribly.

She sighed. "Just use your hands."

That made him brighten. "Thank-you. So… is there a reason you decided to make me eat raw fish?"

She set down her chopsticks and smiled at him across the table. He looked so handsome in the candlelight. "Bill, I was talking to someone today. A midwife. An' we are going to have a child."

His expression was priceless. She gazed at him for what seemed to be one wonderful eternity though it could have scarcely been more than a second. This was it. The moment. And then…

A crash outside. A lighter crash, like falling stiff paper.

"Watch it, Dora!" came Remus' voice.

"Maybe you should just climb the tree to hang this thing!" Tonks. "This spell sucks!"

Bill's face fell. "What are they doing?"

Summoning their own death, Fleur thought.

"There is sushi in there," said Remus' distant voice. "I swear I smell sushi."

"Sushi is disgusting."

"I 'ave no idea," Fleur said. "Dinner iz over. Meet me upstairs."

Thankfully he ran after her. They couldn't hear as much upstairs.


	12. Other Plans

"I still don't think they liked your banner much, honey."

Tonks turned away from the mirror where she had been cleaning off her make-up to glare at him. "Remus, I thought we agreed we were not going to do these silly pet names."

He shrugged. He was already in bed, reading a book. Lucky her to marry the bookish sort. Too many guys weren't that sensitive. "I was only commenting on your banner. Tonks."

She preferred the change in words. "My banner was awesome. It's not my fault that the Weasleys do not share my magnificent taste." She paused, knowing perfectly well that the only reason she had bothered putting up the banner was to bother Fleur. "She'll love me for it. Didn't you like it?"

"If I ever came home, and a banner like it was up for me, I would probably tear it down out of humiliation."

She laughed. "Is that it?"

He winked at her. He was older, but he was distinguished and, well, sexy. "And then I would come in, find my wife, and kiss her."

"You have another wife?!"

They both laughed.

Tonks threw on her pajamas and hopped into bed. "Really, I am so happy for Fleur! She is going to be the world's cutest mommy!"

Remus mumbled something of an agreement and turned to the next page.

She sighed. He could be done with reading already. She wanted to talk. "Remus, have you ever thought about having kids?"

That did it. The book was out of his hands and across the room. "What?"

"Having kids," she repeated. "What if you and I were to have a baby?"

He looked about ready to scream. "Please tell me you mean this hypothetically."

She laughed and kissed his nose. "Yes, yes. Hypothetically. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

"So you're not—"

"No, Remus, I am not pregnant. But, hypothetically, do you ever want kids?"

He said nothing.

This wasn't quite the response she had wanted to this deep, heartfelt conversation. "Remus?"

He took a deep breath. "Dora, does it bother you, ever, that I am a werewolf."

"I told you, I think it's sexy."

"But I mean when I transform."

Her first instinct was to reassure him she was fine. But she waited too long. "That first time really, really scared me."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She couldn't bare to see him like this. "Remus! It's okay! I'm fine now! I would not have married you if I couldn't handle it!"

"Well… what if that were to be passed on to the kids?"

She fingered the blanket. "You mean… werewolf babies? Cubs?"

He nodded. His face was serious.

"Actually…" she began. "I think it would be really sweet. I think we could handle it. You know all about lycanthropy."

He did not yet smile. "I love you."

That was good enough. "I love you, too. Let's get to sleep." She cuddled closer to him. Her werewolf.


End file.
